


Celebrations of the Ethereal Moon

by Anam_Writes



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Fluff, Modern Era, Post-Game(s), Post-Time Skip, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:26:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29262738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anam_Writes/pseuds/Anam_Writes
Summary: 0:00, 25 Ethereal Moon, 2185"Happy Anniversary," Claude said."Happy Millennium Festival," Byleth smiled.She crossed the floor of the Goddess Tower, from window to stairs, as he had for her a thousand years ago. Byleth stepped into the circle of Claude's arms. He held her tight to his chest."Yeah," he murmured into her hair. "That too I guess."
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67
Collections: The Golden Gifts - Claudeleth Fic/Art Exchange





	Celebrations of the Ethereal Moon

**0:00, 25 Ethereal Moon, 2185**

Centuries ago, Garreg Mach would have been brimming with life on this night of the Ethereal Moon. Pilgrims from near and far would have flooded her gates. Students of the old Officer's Academy would dance and celebrate through the halls. Acolytes would sing, monks would cheer, sisters would pray and all would be bright. 

It wasn't so now. Garreg Mach's days as a monastery were long behind her, and a place of academia and a place of faith looked very different over the holidays. 

The halls were empty, for the most part. The dormitories were abandoned by all but a few. The lights were shut off over most of the grounds. All was quiet. 

Well, almost all. 

From behind Byleth came a loud crack, like a whip through the air. She turned around just in time to see the source of a pathetic wheeze that followed. 

Little streamers were halfway to the ground, falling towards where a broken party cracker lay. Claude von Riegan stood at the top of the stairwell, holding a party pipe between his teeth and blowing on it: once, twice, three times now. 

Byleth shook her head.

"Happy Anniversary," Claude said, finally deciding even he was tired of the noise. 

"Happy Millennium Festival," Byleth smiled. 

She crossed the floor of the Goddess Tower, from window to stairs, as he had for her a thousand years ago. Byleth stepped into the circle of Claude's arms. He held her tight to his chest. 

"Yeah," he murmured into her hair. "That too I guess."

* * *

The night markets bustled far more than the school. Vendors lined the cobblestone streets of Old Town, cut off from the traffic by barricade’s on either side for the occasion. Lights hung from every street lamp. They arched over the pedestrians’ heads, washing the street in blue light to represent Sothis’ own star. 

Claude stopped to buy Byleth a blend of spicy tea, having the older gentleman working the stall fill a travel mug he’d brought along. It was into a mug that read "World's Best Teacher" in a large graphic font. She was unsure if it was his or if he'd bought it to be cheeky. 

"I wasn't sure what flowers you're supposed to get for a thousand years," Claude said as he passed her the filled mug. "So I figured I'd improvise."

"I liked the cracker. Could have done without the pipe," Byleth said. "But, again, our wedding was in the Great Tree Moon."

"You know, you say that every year," Claude chuckled. "You're getting predictable." 

Byleth sipped her tea. The one he’d chosen had just a hint of pine. She laughed. "So are you."

There was silence for a moment. That was alright, Byleth could wait. 

"How do you like it here?" Byleth asked. 

"Pretty well," Claude told her. "My research has been promising. I've made a lot of headway on pre-Imperial literary accounts that might be traced back to Sothis and where she came from."

Byleth slipped her arm around his. When Claude was finished, eyes wandering down to the street, she tried again. 

"I didn't mean it like that," Byleth said. 

"I know," Claude dragged his heel a little on the next step. "It's nice. Flayn's the Dean, so she's helped obfuscate the questions. The usual stuff. Where are you from? Why haven't I heard of you? What are your credentials? Why have you been thirty-something for the past two decades?"

"Decades?" Byleth huffed. "You’ve only been here a few weeks."

"It felt like decades without you," Claude gave her his most sugary of smiles. "But it has come up. Someone found an old newspaper clipping. We're trying to pass it off as a family resemblance." 

"Do you need help with that?" Byleth raised a brow. 

Claude really smiled then. "I don't need anyone stabbed; but I'll consider the offer next time." 

Before Byleth had the chance to respond Claude was ushering her to a next stop. His eyes were set on glass ornaments shaped like spiralling shells. They glinted a pretty mint green. 

“All free-blown and custom made,” the artisan said. “Not a-one’s like the others.”

“How much for the chime piece?” Byleth asked. 

“Those are one-twenty each, miss.”

Claude batted his lashes. “They’d look nice in the new apartment. It’s been so empty.”

“And one for Flayn,” Byleth nodded. “As thanks for obfuscating.”

* * *

Evidently, the apartment was indeed a very empty place. Why else would her husband have her walking down main street with so much stuff, were he not looking to fill it? Claude and Byleth were wearing the handles of paper bags like bracelets and armbands within just a few hours. Each bag weighed down heavy on them. Byleth had to admit, it was harder to carry things these days. There was only so much upkeep she could do in centuries of peace. The bags were a relief to put down. 

“How was your trip?” Claude asked. “Did the kids like their gifts.”

“I think so?” Byleth said. “It’s so hard to tell. All these video game titles sound like the same thing. It used to be so easy. Dolls, candy, a sword.”

“Ah, the struggle of being great-great-great-grandparents,” Claude scootched in closer. Byleth smiled as his arm rounded her shoulder and pulled her into his side. “If you give a kid a sword these days everyone gets mad at you.”

“Alright, well,” Byleth snorted. 

Claude wasn’t done. “In our day small children were trading knives in the backyard to fill out their collection. It truly was a better time.”

“Claude,” she squeezed her husband's knee a little in response. It was a weak chiding, and flirtatious enough that she knew it would only serve to encourage him. He needed a little encouragement sometimes, though. 

"Do you know what you sound like, Byleth?" He leaned in close. "You sound like a boomer."

"What does that even mean?" Byleth laughed.

"It’s all based on generational theories that largely lack nuance enough to pass criticism. The explanation is long and it doesn’t matter,” Claude waved through the details. “What it means is you’re old and grouchy and you  _ sound _ old and grouchy.”

“This is what I get for our reunion?” Byleth leaned on his shoulder and poked him in the rib. “For the Millennium Festival? For our  _ anniversary _ ?”

"You said it wasn't our anniversary," Claude tapped the tip of her nose. 

"It is. You know it is. I say it every year and you tell me…"

Claude only smirked back at her. His eyes danced with a mischievous little twinkle. Byleth moved in close to him, pressing a light little kiss to his lips. The cut of his façade softened just a bit.

"You called me predictable," Claude whispered back. His breath rose as a warm fog between them. Byleth's hands moved to his chest, feeling his heart hammering even through his coat. "I thought I'd spice things up."

"Khalid," Byleth whispered back. She felt his breath hitch under her touch, even as he masked it well. "You say it every year. Please, Khalid…"

"You're unfair," Claude groaned. He stood up, leaving Byleth just a bit phased as he gathered his fair share of the bags. "Come on then," he nodded towards a slim street to their right. "Home's this way."

* * *

The place was as empty as Claude had implied. There was no exaggeration or joke to his statement. He'd left the place blank until her arrival. For the time being he had a stool by the kitchen counter, a cot spread in the living room, a closed laptop next to that and a few layers of thick, comfy, blankets. A sweet sentiment but…

"It doesn't look like you've been settling in," Byleth said, hanging up her coat in the closet and kicking her boots off by the door.

Claude had already rushed inside. She could hear him in the kitchen, rummaging through cupboards until the fated "aha!" sounded off. 

Entering the apartment proper, Byleth watched him leave the open kitchen, setting down thick candles on the counter, then two on the far windowsill. One he placed strategically away from the mattress on an empty patch of floor. 

"Get cozy," Claude gestured to the cot. 

"You didn't answer my question," Byleth noted as she lay on her side, reclining on her elbow. 

"You didn't phrase it like a question," Claude shot back. He walked slowly around the room this time, lighting each candle with care. "But if you're worried, it just didn't feel like home without you."

"Well, it looks like you've been struck by the sudden urge to personalize the place," Byleth nodded towards the pile of things at their front door. "So I suppose I can stop worrying a little."

"Just a little," Claude agreed. 

When he finally turned to her to see her it was just the effect Byleth hoped she would have. 

His eyes followed the curve of her shoulder, her bust, her belly, her hips, all snug in a well fitted black shirt. The long sleeves and plunging neckline were a particular staple of Byleth's style these days and Claude very much enjoyed her taste. 

"Happy Anniversary," Claude smiled warmly back at her when he took a step towards her. Byleth reached up, pulled gently on his hand, but he would not budge. "Now you say…"

"It's not our anniversary." Byleth repeated herself. Claude came to kneel on the cot with her, gathering blankets from the end of the bed to pull in closer. "Our wedding was in the Great Tree Moon."

Claude settled to lie beside her. She lowered down, resting her head on the pillow next to Claude. He pulled the blankets over the two of them and said what he'd said every year since their first. 

"On the 25th of the Ethereal Moon I asked you to dance with me. It was the first time I thought to myself that you were the greatest friend I'd had; and, later, in the Goddess Tower, I thought that I might love you," Claude said. His gaze went deep, as though he were seeing past her eyes. He smiled warmly, brushed hair away from her brow. "On the 25th of the Ethereal Moon, five years later, is when I knew I loved you. More than that, it's when fate proved that wherever we went, we would be bound back together, so long as we wanted that."

"I did," Byleth took his hand in hers. It laid between them on the pillow. "As soon as I woke, all I wanted was to find you."

"So there," Claude said. "That's when we were bound together. Whatever some pieces of paper may say, I was determined to be yours that day." 

"Happy Anniversary, Claude," Byleth smiled. 

Claude looked as he always did when she finally gave in, said those words. He looked like the sun had risen over Fódlan once more, like she had woken up, like they were reunited. She supposed, tonight, they were reunited again. 

He kissed each corner of her smiling lips where they rose. He traced the curved outline of her mouth with his own. Then, as Byleth's eyes began to close and a long day's travel weighted her back down into a deep sleep, Claude pressed one full and final kiss squarely on her lips. 

"Happy Anniversary, Byleth. And happy Goddess Festival."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
